The Great Human Egg Obsession – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Something was wrong with Tall Man yesterday. I regret to say that I have not figured it out.

Me:        Nothing is wrong with Tall Man.

Stella:    He was sitting on the floor. Do you call that normal human behavior?

Me:        Yeah, sometimes.

Stella:    No, it is not. Sitting on the floor is bulldog behavior. Floors were make for us to sit on. As were big softy chairs. And couches. And human beds. And…

Me:        Floors are platforms for humans, too.

Stella:    Not only was he sitting on the floor, his legs were crossed like he was some kind of weird cat, though all cats are weird.

Me:        Humans sit cross-legged at times.

Stella:    And he was surrounded by millions of strangely shaped balls that looked a whole lot like the eggs the chickens lay. But guess what?

Me:        Pray tell what?

Stella:    They were not like the eggs the chickens lay. He was opening them and there was no yellow goo inside. Ask me how I know about the yellow goo in eggs?

Me:        I don’t have to. I already know.

Stella:    Well, there was no goo in the eggs Tall Man was opening. And he was putting stuff into the eggs. And guess what?

Me:        What?

Stella:    The stuff was candy. Human candy. Ask me how I know.

Me:        How do you know?

Stella:    Candy smells like guess what? Candy. Candy smells like candy. Why, Lady Human, why? Why was Tall Man sitting on the floor cross-legged, opening millions of fake eggs, and putting candy in them?

Me:        First, he did not have millions of eggs. He had about a hundred which is still a lot.

Stella:    I counted millions but go on.

Me:        Those plastic eggs with candy in them were for a game that some human children play on Easter. People hide the eggs and the children search for them.

Stella:    I don’t understand.

Me:        Well, the fun is in the finding. They get excited to hunt the eggs, and when they find one, they have the bonus of getting the candy inside.

Stella:    So, you hide candy in fake eggs and hide the fake eggs, forcing the children to search for them and this is supposed to be a fun game. Shame on you all, Lady Human. Don’t ever try to fool me like that. Unless, of course, you are hiding real chicken treats. Then you are welcome to try to fool me. My nose will win every time.

 

 

 

Copyright 2018 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Bulldog Treat Catch Bowl Game – Conversations with Stella

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Welcome to the Bulldog Treat Catching Bowl Game. Today’s contestants are Tiger and Doodlebug.

Me:        Okay, ready, Doodle?

Doodlebug:   Mmm hmmm.

Stella:    Whoops! Miss!

Doodlebug:   Not fair! Do over!

Stella:    Let Tiger have her turn.

Me:   Okay, ready, Tiger?

Tiger:   Yep.

Stella:    Nice catch. One point.

Doodlebug:   How does she do that?

Tiger:   Watch and learn, kid.

Me:   Tiger keeps her eyes on the treat and keeps her mouth slightly open. As it falls, if she has to, she adjusts her head to get right under it. Great technique.

Doodlebug:   What am I doing wrong?

Stella:   Simple. You keep your mouth shut and look up like you expect the treat to fall right into it anyway and, when it doesn’t, you look all surprised. It bounces off your nose and you’re all like, “How did that happen?”

Doodlebug:   Well, how does that happen?

Stella:    Doodle! Closed mouths catch no treats.

Tiger:   Neither does his opened mouth. Pick a new game, bud. Maybe something where you use your big ole paws to bat treats into my mouth.

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

Stare Down – Conversations with Stella and Moon the Cat

Posted on by H.J. Hill

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. I can’t talk now.

Me:        Then why did you introduce yourself?

Stella:    I can’t talk because I am in a stare down with Moon the Cat. It is intense. It is touch and go. But in the end, I am sure that my huge bulldog eyes will win.

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Me:        What do you say to that, Moon?

Moon the Cat:   Meow.

Stella:    Typical.

Me:        This is quite a contest. What are the rules?

Stella:    Ask her.

Moon the Cat:   Meooowww.

Stella:    Must I explain everything? Oh, all right. We stare each other in the eyes. No looking away.

Me:        Is blinking allowed?

Stella:    Of course. What do you think we are? Crazy?

Me:        I haven’t figured that out yet.

Stella:    Whoever looks away, moves away, or falls asleep first, loses!

Me:        Falling asleep is an option?

Stella:    The game can grow boring after a while.

Me:        What if someone interferes?

Stella:    Then we stare at them. Since they can’t stare in two directions at once, they lose.

Me:        This is just for you two, I take it.

Stella:    She is my nemesis and I am hers.

Me:        Okey dokey then. Well, see y’all later.

Stella:    Only if the stare down is still going and you want to play. Remember the rules. You lose.

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

The Trophy

Posted on by H.J. Hill

Doodlebug and Miss Sweetie still qualify as puppies. They are 9 month old litter mates, rambunctious and wild as…well. ..as young bulldogs. I was going to say March Hares, but bulldogs probably would not appreciate being compared to any variety of rabbit. They would admire their speed, but rabbits don’t possess those iconic bulldog fangs, something of which the bulldogs are justly proud.

A favorite game of theirs is to grab the scruff of the other’s neck, a particularly loose area of skin on bulldogs. One will grip the other, usually while they are in full gallop, Then let the wrestling begin. The grabber pulls the grab-ee down, they roll around for a few minutes and, turnabout being fair play, the grab-ee returns the favor. Doodlebug drags Miss Sweetie across the yard. Miss Sweetie takes her turn doing the same.

The whole game appears rough. It is. And they love it. They are best friends for life and their tit for tat is continually forgiven.

But Miss Sweetie may have gone a little too far during one of their games.

When it was time for them to come in from play to avoid the brutal heat, I opened the back door and Doodlebug rushed in, sans his new collar. Great. Okay. The search was on.

 

It didn’t take long. Out in the yard, refusing to come in, was Miss Sweetie with Doodlebug’s collar hanging from her mouth. I caught up with her and retrieved the stolen collar. Its latch was broken. She had grabbed him, not by the scruff of his neck, but by his collar. So much easier.

Her powerful jaws had cracked one side of the latch and she let her brother go, preferring to keep his collar as a trophy of victory. Doodlebug is stronger than she is and it is rare that she comes out on top in their contests.

Still, to her credit, she never gives up. This time she came away with something to prove her triumph.

Trophies are iffy things. Not everyone who has one deserves it.

I am reminded by Doodlebug’s broken collar –

It’s not much of a trophy if I tore it out of the rightful owner’s hands.

It’s not a victory if I claimed what was not mine.

It’s not a true victory if I didn’t play by the rules. (2 Timothy 2:5)

Did Miss Sweetie compete lawfully according to bulldog rules? I don’t know. They have not deigned to include me on those details. Perhaps someday I will understand them.

 

Copyright 2016 H. J. Hill All Rights Reserved.